


Getting It Together

by hybryd0



Series: Sex and Feelings [4]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, discussion of polyship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-06 10:26:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11598720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hybryd0/pseuds/hybryd0
Summary: Scotty and Murrs are tired of the two oblivious idiots they call friends





	Getting It Together

“You two are idiots.”

Bryan blinks away from where he’s been watching Tommy feed Conor shots of who even knows what. They’ve all looked a little different so he’s almost positive Conor is going to be regretting this all in the morning, but what’s a birthday celebration without feeling like something scraped off a street the next day? They don’t have practice and after a blowout, shutout win like they had tonight combined with Conor’s birthday it’s almost expected of them to get shitfaced.

“What?” Bryan asks, looking over at Murrs.

“I said, you two are idiots,” Murrs repeats without a hint of hesitation. At least they always know where they stand with Murrs; he never sugar coats anything.

“What are you even talking about?” Bryan asks, tipping his beer back to take a swallow.

Murrs gives him an impressive unimpressed look. He’s gotten better and better at it and Bryan suspects he’s learning it from other goalies. All goalies are masters at that look, especially towards goal scorers.

“You and Conor.”

“What about us?” Bryan asks, now thoroughly confused. “And don’t say we’re idiots, I got that you think that.”

Murrs rolls his eyes skyward like he’s looking for strength. Bryan kinda wants to bite him for it.

“He’s got a point,” Scotty speaks up from where he’s sat on Bryan’s other side. “You’re the most obvious oblivious people I’ve ever seen.”

“What does that even mean?” Bryan tries to demand, but it ends up sounding more like a whine.

Scotty and Murrs lean around Bryan to share that look that people do when they’re talking to an idiot, which is completely unfair. They’re the ones not making any sense. Bryan takes another swig of his beer in irritation. He got a goal tonight, they should be treating him a lot nicer than this.  
“When was the last time you slept with Tommy? Or Murrs?” Scotty asks.

“Uhhhh,” Bryan says intelligently because this is a twist in the conversation he really doesn’t understand. “I don’t know?”

“Have you even thought about it?”

“No,” Bryan says without hesitation. He’s only really thought about Conor, if he’s being honest with himself. Even before Conor got the goal to end his dry spell. And oh. Oh! “Oh.”

Scotty snorts and pats him on the back.

“In case you’re curious, Shears hasn’t slept with anyone else either,” Murrs says.

Oh. Bryan thinks again and looks back at Conor. His heart stutters in his chest when he finds Conor looking back at him with that wide face splitting smile that lights up the room and makes his eyes go all crinkley behind his glasses. He can’t help but smile back helplessly, his stomach doing all kinds of weird flips that have nothing to do with the alcohol he’s consumed.

“We’ve all been just kinda fooling around for awhile now, but I don’t think that’s what you and Shears are doing anymore,” Scotty says. “And it’s okay if you don’t want to do this anymore.”

It’s not really something Bryan has let himself think about, but now he does. He wants those loud nights where they stumble over each other going home and the morning afters snuggled warm and quiet, listening to Conor’s heartbeat. He wants to be the one Conor comes to for comfort after a bad game. He wants THAT smile to be his and his alone, to light him up from the inside out because he knows it’s never directed at anyone else.

“Now he gets it,” Murrs says, slapping Bryan on the back a little harder than necessary.

“Now go get him,” Scotty says.

Bryan looks to the other table where Conor is wincing at whatever Tommy had put in front of him. “What if he doesn’t want the same thing?”

“Fucking oblivious idiots,” Murrs mutters unhelpfully.

Scotty shakes his head like he’s disappointed in Bryan, which isn’t fair. He’s got a legitimate concern. Still, he at least manages to sound like he doesn’t think Bryan’s an idiot when he answers him.

“Look, I’m not going to speak for him, but he’s got this smile that’s only for you and his heart eyes are bigger than his glasses, dude.”

“And if you need an excuse to go over there, Tommy has given him at least four different kinds of alcohol and we all know how this night will turn out if he keeps going,” Murrs adds, because he’s not always an asshole even if he sounds a little mocking about the needing an excuse bit. For all his cool on the ice, sometimes it’s easy to forget Murrs is still a little shit like the rest of them.

“One of you assholes has to move,” Bryan says, finally getting to sound like they’re the idiots instead.

Again Scotty proves to be the lesser of the two assholes and moves so that Bryan can get out of the booth. He can feel eyes on him as he makes his way over to the table Tommy and Conor occupy and he’d be willing to bet he’s got the attention of more than just Scotty and Murrs. Good thing he’s a hockey player and he’s used to having an audience, thrives on it even.

Conor notices his approach and there’s that smile again, the one that makes Bryan’s heart do flips. It doesn’t help that he’s flushed from happiness and alcohol and someone has definitely been ruffling his hair; probably one of the dads if he has to guess. How did Bryan ever mistake this smile for anything other than what it clearly is?

Murrs is right, they are idiots. He’ll never tell him that.

“Rusty!” Tommy cheers whenever he notices Bryan’s approach. “Shots for the goal scorers!”

“You want a blowjob?” Conor asks, mischief written all over his face. Tommy cackles and Bryan shakes his head at their antics. 

They’d pulled that one on Murrs on his 21st.

One second thought, it does give him an idea. There are two of the previously named shots sitting on the table. They’re obviously meant to be the next shots the two were going to do, but one of them has his name on it now.

With a wicked grin, Bryan puts his hands behind his back and locks his fingers together. He watches Conor’s eyes go wide as he realizes just what Bryan is up to. He keeps their eyes locked as he bends down and only breaks eye contact to dip his head and wrap his lips around the shot glass. He makes eye contact again briefly as he lifts his head up and throws back the sweet drink, swallowing it all in one gulp.

The bar, filled with their teammates and friends, erupts with wolf whistles and cheers. Conor is staring at him with his jaw dropped a little like he hasn’t seen Bryan do that before; more likely he was too drunk to remember it, but this is definitely not the first time Bryan has done that shot that way. He enjoys doing the things that his throat can’t fail him on.

He can feel a little bit of whip cream on his lips and flicks out his tongue while keeping eye contact with Conor. He sees the moment they dilate, go a little darker as undisguised want fills his face. Mission accomplished.

Well, part of his mission anyway. He’s definitely guaranteed Conor is going home with him. Now he just has to suck it up tackle the hard stuff and unfortunately this time that’s not Conor’s dick. Not yet at least.

Tommy looks over Bryan’s shoulder and whatever signals Scotty and Murrs are shooting him make him smile ruefully. “Well, it’s been fun.” And he stands up and walks behind Bryan, most likely over to the booth with the other boys. 

He wonders if Conor has any idea Tommy means all the fooling around they’ve done and not just their shots for tonight.

Bryan slides into the seat Tommy vacated and eyes the graveyard of shot glasses lined up at the side of the table. That seems like an awful idea with two drunk hockey players sitting there. One flailed limb and there’d be a mess.

“Looked like you were having a serious conversation over there,” Conor says, eyes bright and curious.  
Trust Conor to get right into it. “They were telling me that we’re idiots.”

“That’s not news,” Conor says, teeth flashing in a wide grin.

“Okay true, but not the point,” Bryan says. Surprisingly he doesn’t feel any nerves about the conversation they’re about to have, but then, everything with Conor has always been easy. “When was the last time you slept with one of the other guys?”

“Uhhhh,” Conor says, looking as thrown as Bryan felt by the question.

“Don’t worry, th-they stumped me with that one too,” Bryan says, mentally cursing as his throat catches. He tells himself to calm down, go slower. This is only Conor, this is easy.

Conor straightens up and fixes Bryan with a curious look. “And what was your answer?”

“Haven’t even thought about it,” Bryan answers honestly. “Only you.”

“Oh,” Conor says softly, and the light flush already tinting his cheeks gets just a little darker. The smile he gives Bryan is soft and pleased and his heart catches in his chest. “Me too, I mean, only you. It’s been only you for a while now.”

Bryan’s heart feels like it’s going to pop right out of his chest with how full it is. It shouldn’t be this easy, he thinks. Nothing has even been this easy. He’s always had to work hard for everything; his hockey, talking around his stutter, being confident. Maybe after everything else life has thrown him it’s decided he deserves something easy.

“So, wanna get out of here?” Bryan asks, adding a ridiculous eyebrow wiggle just for good measure.

Conor’s eyes go hot and he suddenly looks like he wants to eat Bryan alive and damn if that doesn’t make his dick twitch. “Fuck yes, right now.”

They get some more wolf whistles as they get up together, eagerness written so obviously in their movements. Whatever. They can chirp all they want. He’s the one who gets to take Conor home and fuck him into the mattress the rest of the night. And in the morning. And for the rest of their lives if he has anything to say about it.

**Author's Note:**

> the working title for this was "obvious oblivious idiots get their shit together".
> 
> come say [hi on tumblr](https://hockeyshippinfool.tumblr.com)


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